


because i care about you! (rewrite)

by comradefitzroymaplecourt



Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Angst, Arguing, Boys Kissing, Drabble, Kissing, M/M, Oneshot, RIP, Rewrite, Swearing, bonus points if you can tell which shitpost it was, i got inspired by a shitpost?, i wrote and posted this awhile ago but made it more detailed and with some context this time, injuries, old fic rewrite, race gets beat up, spot is a protective boy and i love him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-05-13
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:48:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 620
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24155347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comradefitzroymaplecourt/pseuds/comradefitzroymaplecourt
Summary: rewrite of an old drabblerace is a reckless idiotspot is a protective boyyou'll never guess what happens (sarcasm)
Relationships: Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Kudos: 32





	because i care about you! (rewrite)

It was dark. Past sunset. The moon shone in the sky, lonely. It was too cloudy for many stars. 

Anthony “Racetrack” Higgins was limping. A dark bruise on his cheek, a swollen black eye making him half blind. His leg hurt like hell. He limped through it. He had to get to shelter before nightfall. New York nights were cold, and cold meant death on the streets. The Brooklyn lodging house wasn’t too far. He could make it. Spot wouldn’t be too happy about him showing up without warning at his doorstep, but he had too. 

He winced with every step, each stabbing pain reminding him of the events of that night. He regretted it. He didn’t really need the extra cash, but he was feeling reckless, and Albert bet him a nickel he couldn’t pickpocket the guy standing on the street corner. His heart beat fast, his hands went faster, slipping in and out of the man’s pocket like a whisper. The whisper wasn’t quiet enough. Race laughed bitterly to himself and then winced at the pain in his cheek. 

Approaching the lodging house, he sighed. Raising a hand, he knocked loudly on the door. A tall blonde-haired boy opened the door.

“What the fuck do you want– oh, shit.” His eyes widened. He turned his head around to yell back, “Ey Spot! You might wanna see this…” He opened the door more, letting Race in as Spot walked in from another room. He froze.

“Ey Spotty.” Race chuckled weakly. “Got in a fight. More of a one-sided fight to be honest.”

“Yous an idiot, you know that?” There wasn’t a hint of joking in his tone. He looked Race up and down and scowled. “C’mon.” Race followed him to his private room. One of the perks of being the King of Brooklyn. 

"What the fuck, Racer?" Spot said as soon as the door was closed.

"Listen Spot-" Race started to explain. 

Spot picked Race up by his shirt and pushed him up against the wall. "What the hell were you thinking???!!!" 

"I-" Race looked away, trying not to think about how close Spot’s face was to his right now. 

"You could have been killed, Anthony!" Spot only used Race’s real name when he meant it. 

"I know, I wasn't thinking, I-" 

"Yeah, you never do, do you?” Spot let go of Race and sighed. Race winced as his leg hit the ground. Spot moved away from him, angry. “You never think about anybody other than you. You’s selfish, that's what you are." He looked at the ground.

Race froze at Spot’s cold words. He held back tears. "Listen Spot, I'm sorry."

"Did you even think about what it would do to me? To Jack? To everyone? If you got yourself killed?" He was fully yelling at this point. He didn’t care if the other boys heard. 

"Why do you care so much, it ain’t your fight. I just need a place to stay for the night." Race said bitterly.

“Because I care about you, Anthony! If you got killed, or… I don't know what I would do.” He paused. “I don’t know how I could make it without you, Race.” Spot looked up to meet Race’s eyes. He held back tears. Spot backed up suddenly, wiping his face. “I'm sorry, I don’t know what got into me–”

“Hey, ” Race gently placed his hand on Spot’s upper arm. “I care about you, too, Sean.”

Spot looked up at Race. The boys made eye contact, letting out a series of ‘“oh”s and “um”s from both of them.

Gently, Spot put his hand on Race’s cheek. 

“Can I?”

“...yeah”

He kissed him.

It was softer than Race had imagined.


End file.
